


Rocky Road

by FrenchRoast



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-04-18 12:50:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4706642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrenchRoast/pseuds/FrenchRoast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Road trip AU: they argue over asking for directions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Road

“Did I miss a turn somewhere?” Rumple asked Belle.

She was reading in the passenger seat, not exactly paying attention to where they were as they made their way to New Orleans. And where they were had started to look a little too _Deliverance-y_ for Rumple’s taste. A little of that vibe was to be expected, sure; they were driving through Georgia, and would soon be in Alabama. Even so, the countryside with its low hills of pasture edged with pine trees was quite lovely, despite it being the dead of winter.

But it was getting dark, and they would need to stop to find a hotel soon. Preferably a well-lit hotel. New Orleans would have no shortage of lights, but they wouldn’t make it there until the next day. Just in time for Mardi Gras the day after.

Belle looked up from her book. “We’re past Fayetteville, right?”

“…actually, no.”

“We are on county road 54, though?” Belle looked at Rumple. “Aren’t we?”

“Uh…” Rumple spotted a battered road sign that read _US Hwy 19_ not far ahead. “Perhaps not.”

“Are you kidding me?” Belle put her book down and grabbed the roadmap she’d so carefully marked their itinerary on. “First you miss I-85 when we’re leaving Atlanta and we end up on I-75, and now that I told you how to get us back to I-85, you missed another turn?”

“Maybe we should stop and ask for directions,” Rumple suggested.

“We don’t need to stop for directions, Rumple. I have the map right here. I know how to read a map. I tracked a Yaoguai, remember?”

“Then where do I need to go from here?”

“I don’t know yet, I need to figure out where on Hwy 19 we are. Do you remember if we passed through—“ Belle consulted the roadmap “—Bonanza yet?”

“No,” Rumple said sheepishly. “But I bet the people in that gas station up ahead would know.” He pointed further down the road, to a rather run-down looking gas station. Belle looked up from the roadmap just long enough to glance at the gas station and register her immense displeasure at Rumple’s suggestion.

“We don’t need to stop and ask for directions. We need you to pay attention to where we’re going while you drive,” Belle snapped.

“I’m sorry,” Rumple said. His voice was soft, almost scared. He’d never seen Belle this annoyed before. Angry, yes. But seriously annoyed? No. Her annoyance was normally seasoned with a dash of amusement or acceptance. But Belle was clearly not amused with him at the moment. Not outright angry, either, which he would’ve welcomed; angry meant arguing, but arguing was okay. They worked things out when they argued. But this…this was so unlike Belle.

Rumple was very disconcerted. It was not a pleasant feeling, and this was supposed to be a pleasant trip.

Belle sighed. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be getting frustrated with you for missing the turns. It’s just as much my fault for not paying attention. Go ahead and stop for directions,” she relented, just before they reached the gas station. Annoyance still colored her tone, but it was softer than it had been.

Rumple quietly obeyed, reminding himself that Belle wasn’t used to being in this world outside Storybrooke. Neither was he, but he was more used to it than almost anyone else from the Enchanted Forest. He turned into the parking lot next to the building. The small brick building could only generously be described as dilapidated.

“I’ll go in and ask how to get to I-85 from here. Anything else?”

“Maybe buy a bottle of water or some candy while you’re in there? They probably don’t get a lot of customers.” She paused for a moment, then whispered “And be careful. This place is…creepy.”

Rumple nodded. “Lock the door behind me.”

“Already planning on it.”

Soon enough, Rumple came back, water bottle in tow. He got into the car and sat a small box of Milk duds on the dash in front of Belle; he had gummi bears for himself. There was something fun about biting their heads off. Rumple opened the bag of gummi bears.

“Bonanza is just behind us, and Lovejoy is maybe a couple miles ahead. The guy said to turn right at McDonough Rd, and that will take us to 54. He said stay it’ll turn into 34, after…I think it was Peachy City?” Rumple bit the head off of a green gummi bear. _Take that, you evil green witch._

“Peachtree,” Belle said, focusing on her map. “And then we can get on I-85 after that, and be back on track. Ooo, Milk duds,” she said when she looked up, noticing the box sitting on the dash. “Thanks.”

“I know how much you like caramel. You always used to sneak the chocolate-covered caramels from the kitchen at the Dark Castle. Quite a pilfering little maid you were. I must have gone through three pounds of those caramels before I realized I wasn’t the one eating them all.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Belle said before letting a giggle escape at the memory.

“Shall we be off?” he asked as he turned the key in the ignition.


	2. The Car

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are not going well for Rumple and Belle.
> 
> (Prompt: They pull into town after everything but the skanky truck stop motel closes.)

It was a dark and lovely night, or would’ve been if Rumple and Belle weren’t still in the middle of nowhere.

  
“I can’t believe you let the car run out of gas.” Belle paced back and forth, next to the car. She was trying very hard not to let her temper get away with her, but they had _just_ stopped at a gas station for directions all of 5 miles ago.

  
“It’s not my fault! The gauge said we still have half a tank. It must be busted.” Rumple shrugged. He’d been suspicious that their mileage had been so good, but he’d attributed it to the general downhill nature of the drive.

  
“Can’t you fix it?”

  
“Well, yes, but not until we get back to Storybrooke. Magic doesn’t work out here.”

  
“What are we going to do? We can’t stand here waiting for someone to come give us a lift; we’ve been here 20 minutes and no one’s even driven by.”

  
“I realize that, Belle. There was a gas station just as we left Lovejoy, maybe a mile back. I’ll go get some gas.”

  
Belle looked around. There was desolate pasture to the left of the road, and a thicket of woods rising up from the side they’d parked on. This was not a place she wanted to stay alone; not because she wasn’t brave, but because she wasn’t stupid. She’d seen enough of that channel on the TV with all the true crime. Murder TV, she’d nicknamed that channel. The crime-solving aspect of some of the shows had an odd ability to draw her in, but it didn’t help her faith in the basic goodness of humanity. “I’m coming with you.”

  
“But your heels-“

  
“I’m not staying here alone! I will manage in the heels.”

  
Rumple held his hands up in surrender. To be honest, he felt better not leaving Belle behind.

  
“We should probably take our stuff with us. Just in case.” Rumple popped open the trunk and pulled out their two suitcases. Belle grabbed her purse (full of books, naturally) and slammed the door on her side of the car shut.

  
“This trip just gets better and better,” Belle said as she hefted the purse onto her shoulder. The sarcasm was rough, but not unexpected. They started walking back the way they’d come.

  
After a few minutes, Rumple spoke up, trying to put a positive spin on the situation. “You always talked about wanting adventure in the great wide somewhere.”

  
“Yes, Rumple. Somewhere. This is the great wide _nowhere_!” she said, gesturing at their surroundings. “There isn’t even a dot on the map for this place!”

  
*******

  
It didn’t take as long as Rumple had expected for the two of them—a man with a limp and a woman in 4 inch heels—to walk to the gas station. But by the time they arrived, it was well and truly dark. At least 10 pm.  
Unfortunately, the gas station closed at 10 on Sundays.

  
“I can’t believe this,” Belle said. She slumped against the door to the gas station. The lights inside were off, and no one was inside. Her voice was calm, but laced with an undercurrent of frustration. “Did Regina curse this trip of ours or something?”

  
“If she had, it shouldn’t work out here.” Rumple set down the suitcases, exhausted.

  
Well, he was pretty sure no magic would come with them. Mostly. And he and Regina had declared a truce while he went to look for his son.

  
“What do we—wait, look over there!” Belle cried, jumping and pointing at a bright neon sign across the road, maybe 100 yards further into the “town.” “We can stay there tonight and get gas in the morning!”

  
**Lovejoy Luxury Lodging** the sign proclaimed in bright neon green, except for “Love,” which glowed fuchsia. Below the name, another fuchsia sign read “Vacancies.”

  
It looked exceedingly trashy. There was just no other word for it, except perhaps “seedy” or “run-down.”

  
Rumple looked at Belle skeptically.

  
“Are you sure?”

  
Belle had already started to walk towards the motel. “It’s our only option at this point, I think. Neither of us would make it back to the car in this state anyway.”

  
She wasn’t wrong. Rumple picked up the suitcases and followed Belle.

  
A few minutes later, they walked into their dingy room. Rumple collapsed into the chair, and Belle kicked off her heels. Then she began checking the room out.

  
“Rumple, have you got a quarter? This placard says the bed vibrates, and I want to try it out. I didn’t know they made beds that vibrate!”


End file.
